Majestic Species' Fate May Ride on Wings Of 6 Freed Condors

By VERNE G. KOPYTOFF

Published: December 10, 1996

VERMILION CLIFFS, Ariz., Dec. 7—
Atop a red sandstone escarpment half a mile above the rolling desert of northern Arizona, six California condors stretched their enormous wings and gazed out from a pen at the rugged scrubland, plateaus and pinon forests of their new home range.

If all goes according to plan, these majestic vultures will be released into the wild here 30 miles north of the Grand Canyon on Thursday as part of an intensive 15-year effort to save the species from extinction. It will be the first time scientists have tried to establish a colony of the condors, North America's largest bird, outside of California.

The event will mark a modest advance in the condor's recovery, and culminates nearly a year of sometimes bitter negotiations between biologists and local residents who feared the Government would interfere with the area's ranching, logging and mining with overzealous measures to protect the birds from danger.

Fighting off a legal challenge by officials from San Juan County, Utah, in the state's southeastern corner, which delayed the project for several months, scientists have nearly completed acclimating the young condors to their new surroundings.

''I can't wait for one of the birds to catch a thermal and go almost out of sight,'' whispered Bill Heinrich, a biologist with the Peregrine Fund, a wildlife organization based in Boise, Idaho, that is managing the release.

''To see three or four of them circling overhead above the cliffs will be amazing,'' said Mr. Heinrich, who sat in a camouflaged blind near the birds' pen so they would grow accustomed to human contact.

A condor's wingspan can measure nearly 10 feet, making the bird a graceful glider that can soar up to 150 miles a day in search of carrion like deer, cattle and sheep. Adults have mostly black feathers, with orange heads, and can weigh 20 pounds. Juveniles are almost all black.

The condor's territory once included much of the United States and parts of Canada and Mexico. Bones dating back 10,000 years show that condors once nested near the release site, and anecdotal evidence put them in Arizona as late as the 1920's.

But human encroachment, mainly hunting and pesticides, caused the condor population to drop precipitously, and by the early 1980's only 23 birds remained in the world. To keep the condor from becoming extinct like the dodo, scientists captured the few remaining wild condors living in the coastal mountain ranges of Southern California and put them in an existing captive breeding program.

By 1991, their numbers had rebounded enough for scientists to begin a release program, which has been largely successful despite some conspicuous mishaps. Several condors were electrocuted when they flew into power lines (scientists now put fake power poles in their pens that deliver mild electric shocks on contact to teach them to stay clear) and one died after drinking antifreeze. There are now 17 condors in the wild, and 104 more in captivity.

Scientists believe that a second condor colony will help the species survive a catastrophe like disease or harsh weather that could wipe out a single population. Moreover, the condor's free-ranging ways inevitably put them near dangerous urban areas in California.

The ledges here on the Vermilion Cliffs, which jut from the plain in a sheer face for nearly 40 miles and are accessible by a rutted dirt road, are so remote that the birds will probably encounter only isolated ranch houses and tiny Indian villages.

''We think this is a better place than any we have tried,'' said Dr. Lloyd Kitt, the Peregrine Fund's science director and a former leader of the condor advisory board. ''I'm optimistic. I will feel like a fool if they fly over that cliff and crash.''

The two male and four female condors to be released are five months and six months old, and have never flown any distance longer than a flight pen. Young condors, rather than older ones that are set in their ways, were chosen because of the need to adapt if they are to survive. As a result of the condors' inexperience, Mr. Heinrich said, the release will probably be anti-climactic. The condors will probably fly to some higher roosts 50 yards from their pen, he said, pointing to a few large boulders, or just hop on the ground.

Not surprisingly, the condors will not be self-sufficient for some time, if ever. Scientists will lay out stillborn calves every few days for the condors to eat, gradually making the carcasses harder to find as a sort of hunting lesson before tapering off after two years. The feedings serve to keep the condors from wandering too far, and make them easier to track with radio transmitters fitted to their wings.

Condors prefer living on high ledges to catch the rising wind currents and to take advantage of nesting caves in the rocky crags. The released birds could eventually roam the canyonlands of southern Utah and the Grand Canyon.

Almost inevitably, they will alight on private land, which initially alarmed many Arizona and Utah residents who feared business-killing regulations. Residents of this region are known for their anti-government sentiment, especially opposition to Federal laws like the Endangered Species Act.

For example, many people blame Federal logging restrictions for the closing of a lumber mill in nearby Fredonia, Ariz., in the early 1990's. The restrictions were imposed to protect the habitat of the Mexican spotted owl and the goshawk. Joy Jordan, a civic activist from Fredonia, was one of those skeptical about the reintroduction of the condors.

''Are we going to be put in jail if we hit a condor eating a road kill?'' she asked. ''And what if one drowned in a cattle trough? Would we have to pay a fine?''

To ease fears, officials from the Fish and Wildlife Service held several public meetings to explain a plan to designate the condor as an ''experimental, nonessential'' animal. A similar agreement was used to reintroduce wolves into Yellowstone National Park.

Under the plan, animals are considered expendable and do not affect land regulations or development. Wildlife officials also signed a letter with local governments that said they would remove the condors from the area if their nonessential status was changed.

The plan satisfied, or at least mollified, most residents like Ms. Jordan, who plans to attend the condors' release. But the Fish and Wildlife Service did not talk to officials in San Juan County, who later filed the lawsuit.

Bill Redd, a San Juan County Commissioner who participated in the court challenge, said: ''We know about the kangaroo rat in California, the riparian habitats on the East Coast and that nonsense about the spotted owl in Washington and Oregon. We are a rural county and we depend on the land.''

It will be perhaps five or six years before scientists know whether the introduction of condors into Arizona has been successful. By then, the birds will be old enough to breed.

Watching the condors scratch and flutter in the holding pen, then lifting their heads as a golden eagle circled overhead, Mr. Heinrich said, ''They're definitely ready to go.''

Photo: California condors, like this one at the Los Angeles Zoo, are to be released in the wild 30 miles north of the Grand Canyon this week. North America's largest bird, it has a wingspan that can reach nearly 10 feet. (M. Austerman/Animals Animals) Maps of Arizona shows the planned release area.